Sanctuary
by Lolaleddir
Summary: AU. 1610. In a time when witch hunts are spreading like wildfire, Hermione escapes to Little Whinging to hide the Elder Wand from Lord Voldemort. Yet hiding from the Dark Lord isn't the only thing on her mind. There's also the pesky task of hiding her magic from the non-magic townfolk, and especially one infamous residential witch hunter, Harry Potter. H/Hr
1. Prologue

Summary: Alternative Universe, with elements of the book series through book 7.

In a time when the persecution of witchcraft is rampant across Muggle Europe, Hermione, a practicing witch, arrives in Little Whinging in order to hide the Elder Wand from Voldemort. Yet for her and her companions, hiding from the Dark Lord is not the only thing on their minds. There's also the pesky task of hiding magic from the non-magic townfolks, and especially one infamous witch hunter, Harry Potter.

 **Prologue**

 _12 Grimmauld Place– 1610_

"It's him! They are coming!" Tonks burst into the living room of Grimmauld Place, her purple pixie cut sticking every which way and her right forearm leaking blood steadily onto the carpet.

Hermione, seated at the head of the table, stood in an instant. The front door flew from the frame with a blast and they heard it crash into the end of the hall. Around the table, McGonagall, Kingsley, Arthur and 12 others stood as well.

"Do we fight?" Ginny moved herself towards the entrance, her knuckles white from the tight grip of her wand.

"How many?" Hermione asked Tonks, one hand reaching for a beaded handbag on the table.

McGonagall shook her head and pushed Hermione towards the stairs. "No, you need to go. We've planned for the breach of this places months ago. Follow it. He's here for you. We can't let him get to you."

"But I can-"

"Voldemort knows Dumbledore transferred the elder wand to you before he died. You are duty bound for its survival, and therefore, everyone's! Take Ginny, Luna, Lavender and Fleur as protection. Go!"

"Professor I-" Hermione was interrupted by a shot of gold sparks that she narrowly missed when Luna yanked her backwards. Figures in skeletal masks flooded into the room as Order members began dueling in earnest.

"We should go, Hermione," Fleur was pulling her back from the fray even as she raised her wand to deflect a straying curse.

Ginny and Luna began climbing the stairs, Fleur following suit. Hermione turned to go when she felt a hand stopping her. She turned around sharply but saw that it was Tonks. "Teddy, I put him down for a nap earlier in your room before I headed out. Please Hermione, will you take him with you? I'll come for him later. I didn't know-"

"Of course Tonks, I'll go get him quickly and go," Hermione nodded and began running up the stairs, now a urgency in her steps.

On the top landing, she made it straight to the room she shared with Ginny and Luna. In her bed, Teddy was thrashing around and crying, woken by the noise downstairs. As she picked up the nearly year old infant, Ginny's head poked into the room. "Where did you go? Fleur's fireplace is all set. What is he doing here?"

"Tonks dropped him off. He's coming with us," Hermione half carried, half ran to the doorway and followed Ginny next door.

"Luna already went through," Fleur handed Ginny the cup of floo powder. Ginny stumbled into the fireplace, shouted "Activate Destination!" and disappeared in a flash of flames.

"Right, you ready?" Fleur asked as both she and Hermione squeezed into the alcove of the fireplace.

Hermione shushed Teddy's crying and clutched the infant's tightly to her chest with one hand while reaching for Fleur's palms with her other.

"On three!" Fleur motioned, as they have practiced many times. "One-two- _Confringo_!" she said in a clear voice at the same time as Hermione shouted "Activate Destination."

The two girls disappeared. At the same time, the fireplace exploded into oblivion.

 _Somewhere deep in the Forest of Dean_

It was a quiet dark night. A mere sliver of a crescent cast out a gentle light in the sky and the forest slept on as a flash of green emitted from the single haphazardly built small cottage in the middle of a small meadow.

Inside the spare stone walls, Luna and Ginny ran forward to help Hermione and Fleur scramble to their feet.

"Did anyone see you?" Ginny asked. "Hold on, why do you have Teddy?"

"I don't think so, and we destroyed the portal on our way out, " Hermione answered, juggling the fussing infant in her arms. "And never mind that. Later."

"As if it was necessary to break that beautiful fireplace," Fleur said wistfully, taking her time to brush the soot off her clothes now that they seemed relatively safe. "It was already charmed to be a one-time portal."

"Better safe than sorry," Hermione said while picking up a heavy traveling cloak from a pile folded neatly at the corner of the room.

"I always wondered where your emergency portal would take us Hermione," Luna mused, trailing a finger over the dusty single window. "But how will it house all of us?"

"We are not staying," Hermione handed Fleur Teddy and pulled the cloak on.

Fleur nodded. "Minerva has a theory that Voldemort is tracing our location through magic. Well, specifically Hermione's magic, or the Elder and's magic. We are not sure, but that's why we used the floo rather than Apparate. We can't stay here either, in case there's any residual magic from the floo."

"So where are we going?" Luna asked.

"There's a village, non-magical, that I chose months ago. It's small, isolated, and completely non-magical. We can hide in plain sight. We are suppose to stay under the radar until we are contacted by the order," Hermione answered.

"Hold it! We can't do any magic?" Ginny protested, her hand slipping from the clasp of her own cloak.

"I can't do any magic," Hermione corrected. "But just be safe, lets keep it all to a minimum."

"Where are we going?" Luna inquired as the girls filed out of the cottage.

"Little Whinging."


	2. A World Without Magic

**Chapter 1- A World Without Magic**

A world without magic.

To Hermione, who didn't practice a speck of it before eleven, the concept wasn't novel. Nevertheless, she had been a witch for years now. There was something rather unnatural about a sudden lack of it. How will she protect herself? Her friends? She felt as if all this time, she had taken her magic for granted. And now, without it, she felt naked. Vulnerable.

The densely covered forest preparing to swallow her whole suddenly seemed far more threatening. Every rustle in the foliage was Voldemort preparing to strike her down, every shadow a promise of something sinister. She glanced over at her companions and watched as Ginny, Luna, and Fleur carrying a sleeping Teddy hurried along beside her, all peering anxiously at the darkness around them.

 _No matter what, I have to stay strong for them._ Hermione promised herself.

For weeks now, she and her traveling companions have navigated through the English countryside toward what they've been told is the general direction of Surrey. Between camping in the wilderness, hiring short distance coaches in town and feeding four adults and an infant, resources were dwindling along with morale. They had elected to traveling at night, just to ward off the suspicion from other travelers, probably wondering why a band of disheveled young women, with a child no less, were inquiring about a town so far off, and without any escorts. They were too noticeable, too memorable.

"Is that it? There?" Ginny pointed excitedly, her weariness momentarily forgotten.

Below them, a sea of twinkling lights and smoking chimneys began to unfold under the light of the sunrise. Hermione had visited the town on only two occasions. The first, to assess the area's viability as a temporary hideout. The second, to set up a potential place to stay. Several other villages fit the bill, but it was Little Whinging in particular that caught her attention. She liked the modest towns' center, its bustling community. Most of all, she loved the little abandoned cottage on the outskirts of town, surrounded almost on all sides with woodsy oaks and a meadow of dandelion flowers. Close enough to town for acquiring food and other necessities but isolated enough to enjoy the privacy they would no doubt need. It was perfect.

"Oh," Luna sighed as the said cottage drifted into view between the trees. "Is that for us?"

Hermione beamed. It was a sight for sore eyes.

The meek light of dawn lit up the sloping rooftop and the chimney. Dark green grass surrounded the single storied structure on all sides, its boundaries defined by a rustic fence built out of sticks of varying size. The air was crisp and sweet and as the group waded their way through the dandelion field, they breathed a collective sigh of relief. Here at last.

"It'll be a little cramped, but we can make nice place out of it, yes?" Fleur appraised.

"Just give me a bed at this point and I'm sold," Ginny ran up to the fence and raised her wand, "Protego Max-"

"Ginny, no!" Hermione interrupted just in time.

Ginny froze mid-spell and looked around, bewildered. "What? This is how we set up all the safe houses! I mean, I could use a kip just as much as anyone, but I'd spring for some alarm system before we head in, wouldn't you?"

Hermione shook her head firmly. "No. No magic. Unless it's a matter of life or death."

"You're not serious! Not even us?" Ginny protested.

"We picked this location because there's no trace of magic miles of the place," Hermione breathed. "Let's keep it that way."

Luna nodded in agreement. "Hermione is right. Remember, we still don't know how You-Know-Who's tracing Hermione's magic. But the fact that he can track one person could just as well mean he can track others."

"So what, we sleep with one eye open?" Ginny lowered her wand, looking around apprehensively once more.

"Let's get inside," Fleur suggested. "And put that away Ginny. What would someone think if they saw a girl waving around a wooden stick in the middle of a field?"

The inside of the cottage had seen better days. A thick layer of dust covered every available surface and cobwebs decorated the ceiling like stringed lights. Yet as the morning sun filled the room, Hermione couldn't help but relax a little. She can do this. Pretend to be someone else, live under the radar. It might even be nice.

"Does anyone else think it strange that we still haven't heard from the Order?" Luna looked around the table uneasily. "It's almost a whole moon cycle."

"I'm sure they are just being cautious," Hermione reminded them. "No magic, remember? That means communication by owls only and we've been moving constantly. I'm sure now that we are settled, they'll be able to let us know what's going on."

"I hope everyone's okay," Ginny whispered, drawing swirling designs in the dust.

"Of course they are!" Hermione tried to sound upbeat. She clasped her hands together. "Right, so five people, two bedrooms, and I think we can convert the attic into a loft but it'll be tight. Gin? Share a room with me?"

"I'll take the attic," Luna volunteered.

"Which leaves me with the little guy," Fleur smoothed over Teddy's wispy curls fondly.

"Good," Hermione nodded. "I'm going to head into town. We barely have any food left. Why don't you all get some sleep and I'll be back soon."

"Should you really go on your own?" Ginny asked warily.

"I'll be fine. The town is perfectly ordinary."

"I'll stay awake and clear up a bit until you get back. Just in case," Fleur offered.

Hermione stood up and shot the blond a grateful look. "Thanks Fleur, I'll be back soon."

XXX

Hermione loved mornings. The air always smelled of crisp grass and freshly baked bread, even if its just in her head. As the world stirred around her, she felt free and ready to take on the day. She couldn't remember the last time she wander down the street, no glamour, no looking over her shoulder.

Since Voldemort took over the Ministry four years ago, the Wizarding World had transformed into a place she barely recognized. Shops boarded up in Diagon Alley, dementors roaming the streets and preying on the few desperate enough to chance the place a visit. Even St. Mungo's closed down.

Then Dumbledore was murdered and Hogwarts fell. These days, it felt as if half the Wizarding population opted to follow Voldemort, either out of ignorance or fear. Those who didn't sought sanctuary underground. Hermione, a notable Order member and now the master of the Elder Wand had been boarded up in Grimmauld Place for almost a year. The only light in all the darkness was that the Order was also growing. They found small victories in scrimmages here and there. Supporters and members alike, previously separated and out of touch, were slowly finding their way back since the world went dark.

As she fingered the last few coins in her pockets, Hermione carefully weighed the immediate necessities against one another and made the necessary purchases.

 _It might not hurt to look out for a temporary job while I'm out here._ She thought.

"Just passing through, Miss? I 've never seen you around" the kind eyed baker asked as he wrapped up her loaf of bread, interrupting her musings.

"Oh, no," Hermione shifted under his inquisitive gaze while wondering, in spite of herself, if the baker was actually a Death Eater in disguise.

There was a pause as the baker waited for her to elaborate.

 _Get a grip!_ Hermione mentally kicked herself. She flashed the baker what she thought was a charming smile. "Sorry, what I meant was, I just got into town this morning. Slightly tired. But no, I think I might stay awhile. It seems like a nice place to get settled."

"Well in any case, welcome to Little Whinging," the baker handed over her bread. He looked at her, a little puzzled. "Who are you visiting, if you don't mind me asking? It's just…well…we don't get a lot of strangers in town."

"Oh, um, no one," Hermione replied, now uncomfortable. "Just looking for a change of scene I suppose. I stumbled across this house on the outside town. It was abandoned so I thought I'd restore it. I'm from London, originally. Thought I'd try out living in the countryside for a bit."

"I see," the baker looked at her as if she's grown two heads. He managed a smile though. "Well, I'm Polkiss, Miss-?"

"Granger," Hermione supplied.

"You let me know if I can help you settle in, alright Miss Granger? Are you living alone?"

Hermione shook her head lightly. "I came with some cousins."

"Good," Polkiss approved. He started to say something else but at that exact moment, the bell over the entrance rang and as he looked up to greet the newcomer, he broke into a grin. "Ah-Harry, top of the morning to you, my boy! When did you get back?"

Hermione turned as well.

The gentleman who strode through the door couldn't have been much older than herself. However, he carried a certain confidence in his strides that suggested authority. Untidy, jet black hair and leanly built, he waved at the baker, "Good morning, Polkiss. Got back last night. It took a bit longer than I expected but it was eye opening! I learned some new things that I can put to good use."

He turned his attention to Hermione, who became slightly mezmerized to find that behind the round spectacles, eyes of a startling emerald green peered back at her. "Who's your new friend?"

Polkiss turned to look at Hermione. "Oh, Harry, meet Miss Granger. Miss Granger, here we have one of Little Whinging's finest and brightest, Mr. Harry Potter.

"Pleasure," Hermione said.

"You are too kind Polkiss, and the pleasure's all mine, Miss Granger," Harry replied with a bow and a kind smile.

"You'll get to know everyone around here. We're a small community." Mr. Polkiss nodded.

"Well I look forward to it," Hermione replied. "It was nice meeting the both of you. Thanks for the bread."

As she turned to leave, she had an idea. Pausing at the door, she asked, "Actually, do either of you know where I can find some work?"

Polkiss shook his head. "Sorry, I'm not looking for new hands at the moment. But-" he hesitated, sharing a glance with Potter. "Well, if you really need some help, I think Rosmerta down the road is looking for some kitchen hands. Maybe Harry can take you for an introduction."

"Of course, it's just a few shops down," Harry nodded as he pocketed the wrapped up breakfast roll Polkiss handed over.

"That's very kind of you," Hermione said.

They bid farewell to Polkiss and strolled down the now much busier main street. As they moved along, Harry answered several greetings through the shop windows and with passerby's.

"Wow, everyone really do know everyone," Hermione laughed as Harry nodded to a old man who waved hello. Ahead, she spied a lively wooden structure, two stories high with an iron sign, Rosmerta's Inn.

"It can be overwhelming first, but you'll do just fine," Harry replied. "So tell me, Miss Granger, where are you from?"

"Call me Hermione," she flushed a little when Harry turned his attention fully back to her. Just objectively speaking, Harry Potter could be considered rather handsome. "I'm from London, originally." she added. " My cousins and I are looking for a change in scene."

"You arrived with company?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. She really should trade backstories with all the girls when she gets back. Make sure everyone is on the same page.

"How many?" Harry interrupted her mental note.

"Well, three cousins, why?" Alarms were now going off in her head. Was everyone in town so nosy? Or is this Harry Potter a death eater.

"No reason." Harry shrugged. "Just making conversation. We don't get a lot of newcomers. When an unfamiliar face walks into town, everyone gets curious. You better prepare yourself," he joked.

Great. Now she could add paranoid to the growing list of unattractive adjectives to her identity.

"Why don't you tell me about what its like to live here," she asked quickly to divert the conversation.

"A bit of everything," Harry replied lightly as he held the front door of Rosmerta's for Hermione. "Farming, animal husbandry and as you saw, all the shopkeeping on Main street. We try to be as self-sustainable as possible. We like to keep the community small. I'm sure it will be quite a change compared to a big city like London."

"Sounds charming," Hermione mused as her eyes adjusted to the darker interior of the tavern. "What is it that you do again? "

"Something along the lines of the local constable, I suppose," Harry replied. "Ah! Good day, Madam Rosmerta. I brought along someone you might like to meet. This is Hermione Granger. She's new in town and looking for work."

"Yes, hello," Hermione smiled at the older woman. "My cousins and I just arrived"

Madam Rosmerta looked Hermione over. "Yes, I just lost two girls last month. One's getting married and the other-" she snuck a glance at Harry, a glance Hermione noticed as similar to the one Polkiss gave Harry earlier. "Well, the other one isn't with us anymore," she finished quickly.

"We would really appreciate it if you could take us on," Hermione decided to ignore the shifty glances. For now anyway.

Rosmerta considered Hermione, looking her over a little more carefully now and glancing back at Harry once or twice. "Well," she said slowly. "I don't really know you, Miss Granger, but since Mr. Potter brought you in.." she trailed off with an accommodating smile. "Why not. You can all come back tomorrow morning and we can talk it over. I need a kitchen hand and a serving girl."

"Tomorrow morning works great. Thank you!" Hermione nodded.

"Cheers, Rosmerta!" Harry grinned. He and Hermione made their way out the way they came.

"Can I escort you home? Where are you staying?" Harry offered as they spilled out onto the sunny street.

 _Watch it, Hermione._ Hermione thought to herself. As easy-going as Harry appeared, there was definitely something slightly off about him and the way other people acted around him. It was curious. Both Rosmerta and Polkiss were overly gracious towards the man, yet at the same time, something in the way they stood, spoke, as if every word was considered carefully and apprehensively. No, Harry Potter was a character. A local character, undoubtly, but not one she would want to get involved with this early on.

"I still have some errands to run so I better be off," she lied. "But thank you for the offer, and introducing me.

"No problem," Harry replied.

"Well, I'll see you around, Mr. Potter," Hermione turned to go.

"Call me Harry. Formalities don't last long in this town." he joked. "Until next time then."

Mentally adding the Harry Potter mystery to a list of peculiarities of Little Whinging, Hermione walked on.

A/N: Thanks for all the support so far everyone. To be honest, I've had this plot bunny in my mind for years and since it won't leave me alone, I've finally relented to make something out of it. As of right now, I don't plan on making the story too long but we'll see where it goes. I'd love to hear what you think, so feel free to drop me a message! Questions are always welcome, especially as I try to haphazardly piece together some half-formed plot line from half a decade ago! Thanks!


	3. The Witch Hunter of Little Whinging

Sanctuary

Chapter 2- The Witch Hunter of Little Whinging

Hermione smoothed over the wrinkles of her apron as she set down two overflowing jugs of ale before a table of patrons.

"Ah, cheers Hermione! Now there's a woman after my own heart," the burly man Hermione have come to know as Piers, Mr. Polkiss's son, grinned at Hermione as he took a swig of ale. Next to him, Dudley Dursley, another regular winked at her, his eyes quickly raking her over.

Hermione laughed this off as she picked up the empty plates left behind at an adjacent table. When she first began working at Rosmerta's two weeks previously, she had been alarmed by the forwardness of its customers. Yet as she later discovered, many of the tavern's diners flirted with any female who happened to be passing by their table and her flushes of embarrassment were only rewarded with collective laughter and more ludicrous advances. These days, as Rosmerta had kindly suggested, she simply offered a smile before moving on.

As always, the tavern was buzzing with activity, even as closing time approaches. Hermione secretly attributed to the sudden boom in business to the ethereal vela who worked as a serving girl on and off in between taking care of Teddy at the cottage. Rosmerta would never admit it aloud, but Fleur was bringing in four times more customers in a single night than Rosmerta used to get in a day.

"Hermione, don't dawdle!" Ginny poked her head through the curtain that separated the back of the bar from the kitchen and traded her empty plate for a freshly made plate.

"After my job now, Ginevra?" Rosmerta winked at Hermione across the bar. "But she _is_ right Hermione, hurry along now! Mr. Potter just walked through the door."

Hermione sighed. The man always walked in just before closing and was always the last to finish his meal at the end of the night. She dropped off a slice of pie at Dudley's table before making her way towards Harry, who as always, sat at the perpetually empty table in the corner of the room, nodding his greeting to familiar faces as he passed by.

"Good evening, Hermione," Harry greeted when she approached.

" , we are closing very soon but I assume you'll want your usual anyway?"

"And a sample of the treacle tart if there's some to spare," Harry replied unabashedly, "and as I reminded you last night, please, call me Harry."

"We saved some just for you Harry!" Rosmerta, who had overheard their short exchange, fawned over the younger man and nudged Hermione back towards the kitchen. "Don't mind Hermione here, her tiredness quickly sours to crankiness."

Weeks since arriving in town and Hermione was none the wiser at solving the mystery that is Harry Potter. For one, every time she glimpsed him in the town square, no matter what time of the day, he seemed merely to be loitering around. What exactly he did for a living was beyond her yet he seemed to be well-off enough to eat at the tavern every night. For another, no matter whom she asked, no one was willing to remain on the topic of Harry Potter for long. With shifty glances and nervous laughter, villagers unfailingly found one excuse or another to shuffle in the other direction when she brought him up.

As she made her way back from the bar with Harry's customary goblet of mead, Harry nudged the chair next to him and nodded at it. "Take a break, your shift technically ended two minutes ago."

 _No thanks to you_ , Hermione thought as she shook her head. "I cannot, Mr. Potter. Lots to do, as it is **closing** time," she said, making sure to emphasize the word "closing."

Harry chuckled, his hand up. "A bloke can take a hint, yes? I'll enjoy this quickly and be off, I give you my word," and to prove himself, he tipped the goblet towards her and took a large swig. His eyes full of boyish mischief, he then added, " But some company might help me drink faster."

Hermione sighed and sat down opposite in the chair opposite, feeling Rosmerta's eyes burning through the back of her head across the room.

"How do you like Little Whinging so far now that you and your companions have settled in?"

"I like it," Hermione nodded earnestly. "It's a charming place, idyllic even."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Those are high praises you sing, Hermione. But I'll have you know almost everyone I've known growing up have wanted to move off to somewhere more exciting."

"Hmm, " Hermione replied, watching Harry picking over his slice of the tart with wary eyes. "To be honest, some excitement is nice, but it's also beautiful here. It's as if you can just sit back and let time pass you by. But there must be a reason why people stay. What's your reason?"

"I come and go," Harry answered mildly, digging into his tart. "My work requires me to travel sometimes but for what it's worth, I agree. Little Whinging is pretty special. I like the people. And this is home."

"Oh?" Hermione's attention perked up. Privately, she recalled all the times she spotted Harry Potter in the square the last few days. As far as she could tell, he simply loitered. "What was it you do again?"

Harry grinned, sporting a cryptic smile. "I work with the constable. I like to think of myself as a peacekeeper. Like I said, Little Whinging is home, and I protect my home.

Hermione tensed slightly. Harry's voice held a slight edge as he finished his last sentence. He was no longer paying attention to his dessert now and fixed those emerald green eyes at her with scrutiny. "You'd let me know if anything, or anyone, threatened the peace of Little Whinging, wouldn't you Miss Granger? It is, after all, your home now as well."

"Of course," Hermione nodded. What was this all about?

"Because I would hate to think a seemingly innocent young lady like yourself would arrive at our humble little village, unescorted, under false pretense after we locals have been so hospitable?"

"I'm sorry, " Hermione frowned at the sudden change of tone in their conversation. "What are you implying?"

"I think you know," Harry Potter replied.

"I assure you I do not," Hermione made to stand. " I will excuse your unwarranted behavior on accounts of the spirits in your drink, Mr. Potter, now I must go help close up shop." _Where was Ginny? Had they been found by Voldemort's Death Eaters already?_

"Sit down Miss Granger." He said shortly. "I have every right to make invistigate your intentions for the safety of Little Whinging, in the name of -" Harry Potter was gripping her forearm to pull her back onto her seat when Madame Rosmerta came out of nowhere.

"Mr. Potter! Shall I wrap up that for you?" she reached for the platter of half eaten treacle tart and shoved it at the half seated Hermione who scrambled to catch the plate. Looking around for the first time since she sat down, Hermione realized with a start that the tavern had completely cleared out while they spoke. " I am afraid we've stayed open as long as we can for you. There is the new curfew to think about and my girls should get home at a reasonable hour. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, Madame," Harry nodded, seeming to compose himself and let Hermione go. "My apologies to have kept you Miss Granger. I won't be needing the tart, Rosmerta. Good evening, ladies."

"A very good night to you, Harry," Rosmerta winked and walked Harry towards the door.

Harry shot Hermione another inquisitive look. "I will be seeing you around Miss Granger and I look forward to continuing our scintillating conversation."

"Anytime Harry, we hope to see you back tomorrow," Rosmerta waved as Harry strolled out. She closed the worn double doors after him, latched it and let out a sigh. Turning around to look at Hermione, who had watched the quick and peculiar exchange in even more confusion, Rosmerta hissed, "Are you out of your mind, you silly girl!"

"I'm sorry, what was that all about?" Hermione asked.

"Is everything alright, Madame?" Ginny, wiping her hands on her apron and emerging from the kitchen, looked around curiously. "What was that ruckus from earlier?"

Rosmerta looked at Hermione, then to Ginny, and then back to Hermione. "Ginny dear, I think it is best if you go on ahead for tonight," she finally said with a barely disguised light tone. "I would like to speak with Hermione privately. But she'll be along soon enough."

Ginny turned to look at Hermione. With her curiosity getting the best of her, Hermione, nodded a reassuring smile. "It's alright Gin, I'll catch up."

"There's a good girl. I'll see you tomorrow morning Ginny dear," Rosmerta patted Ginny on the shoulder and saw her out before locking the front door once more and turning to fix her attention back to Hermione. She looked shaken as she unnecessarily smoothed over the wrinkles of her apron. Appearing to have arrived at a decision, she settled at the nearest table and motioned Hermione to join her across its rickety wooden counter.

When Hermione sat down, she spoke in a rapid, hushed voice. "You should know, I don't usually do this –especially not for strangers—but you girls seem like nice, proper young ladies— and oh bother! I'm doing this out my concern for you Hermione and if-If it turns out you are in league with—If you—" at this Madame Rosmerta seemed to have lost all coherency all together and glanced apprehensively at the door before looking down at her hands.

"In league with whom?" Hermione asked, both confused and curious. "I don't understand."

"Who is Harry Potter to you?" Madame Rosmerta stared at Hermione across the flames of the singular candle on the tabletop.

"Mr. Potter?" Hermione raised an eyebrow in spite of herself. "No one. I barely know him. If this is about earlier, I honestly don't know where that all came from!"

Madame Rosmerta didn't seem to believe Hermione's latest admission in the slightest. "Hermione, I know we've only known each other for two weeks, but I hope that I have your confidence as much as you absolutely have mine. I'm only saying this as an older friend of yours, Hermione. I'm just worried about you and—well, I know it's none of my business—I'm not your mother, but seeing that you lack such a figure at the present moment—" She heaved a heavy sigh. "I just want you to be careful, Hermione. There are plenty of nice young men out there. But Harry Potter, you are playing a dangerous game with the lad."

Seeing where the older woman was heading, Hermione held her hands out in protest, "We're not! There is nothing going on between Mr. Potter and me!"

"He is a very handsome man, Hermione and I understand the appeal of engaging with a suitor in a position of such power—"

"I honestly have no idea what you are talking about, Madame Rosmerta." Hermione interjected. "What I mean is, I think you misunderstand, Madame."

Rosmerta raised her brows in disbelief but let Hermione continue.

"I really don't know Harry Potter at all. I see him in passing every now and then in town but honestly, the only day-to-day interactions we share is when he comes to the tavern in the evenings for a quick meal or a drink."

Madame Rosmerta sat back, her stare full of suspicion. "I hope you feel you can be frank with me, Hermione. And I hope you have enough sense of the opposite sex to realize that when a man habitually visits the place where you are guaranteed to appear on a nightly basis where he rarely visited before, that he is certain to have other interest than just a quick meal or a drink."

Hermione shrugged, surprised by this new piece of information. She had simply assumed that Harry Potter's nightly appearance at Madame Rosmerta's was due to some pre-established ritual, not because of her. On most nights, he hadn't shown the slightest interest in her, merely sat at his table and ate his meal, usually well after the official closing time. She had figured that he, like most patrons of the place, was hoping to catch Fleur when they closed. At first, the thought pestered at her, but that idea was soon replaced by the greater annoyance that Harry Potter made her overstay her shift every day. Now, her mind raced as she tried to make sense of this new piece of the puzzle. So Harry Potter wasn't what he appeared to be. This, she had guessed as much. But what kind of a character would warrant such paranoia from her employer?

Madame Rosmerta was now looking at Hermione with - hang on- Was that pity? "My dear girl, could it be possible- that you really don't know what kind of danger you are in?" she asked.

"Why don't you tell me, Madame Rosmerta?" Hermione asked calmly.

Rosmerta's eyes darted to the door, "Oh God have mercy on my soul," she prayed silently. Checking the locked entrance one more time, she beckoned Hermione closer and whispered so low that Hermione wasn't sure if she had heard it right. "Mr. Potter is a witch hunter."

Hermione wasn't sure what she had expected the older woman to finally disclose, but this was the last thing she could have guessed. "Witch. Hunter," she repeated slowly, chuckled at the irony of it and was immediately shushed.

"Are you mad, my girl! This is no laughing matter and I think, after tonight, you just won yourself the top spot on Mr. Potter's suspect list. I don't know what you were thinking, being so short with him!" Yet after this admonishment, her eyes softened and she muttered to herself, "But of course, you are new to town, and probably didn't know. Now, you do. You must do everything you can to cast away his suspicion. "

" You think that he thinks that I am a witch?" Hermione asked, inwardly laughing at her rotten luck. Of all the places to pick a safe house, honestly! "But I haven't done anything to warrant any suspicion in the first place," she protested. "What does he have to go on, except that my friends and I are new, and that we live out in the woods because there was no boarding available in town."

"Remember what I told you about your cottage Hermione? No one has lived in there for years and years. Some folks believed it to be haunted. It doesn't bode well for you, Hermione, or Ginny and Fleur."

"Noted, thank you Madame, but I've got nothing to hide, " Hermione smiled reassuringly.

It was rather sweet of Madame Rosmerta to warn her and now that the truth was out, Harry Potter suddenly made a lot of sense. Hermione didn't have a lot of experience with Muggle witch hunters. She was lucky to have grown up in a massively progressive non-magical household and her hometown before her letter from Hogwarts arrived was a devout but no-nonsense kind of place, free from such outrageous superstition. From her readings, however, she remembered how wizards mocked the Muggle hunters' outlandish methods and how their success of capturing a true witch or wizard was almost nonexistent. Still, it probably wouldn't be ideal to draw attention to the group given their current circumstances of hiding incognito. _Plus, you can't use magic, not unless you want to test that nasty little theory about the trace and bringing Voldemort onto your doorsteps._ Hermione reminded herself.

"I do wish you luck, my girl," Rosmerta nodded, standing up. "We've lost a good number of people to little accusations that grew into executions. It's not a pleasant way to die."

"Surely, Mr. Potter knows his craft well enough to carry out his duty for only those who are guilty," Hermione prompted, deciding the safest thing to do was to play along.

"We thank the good Lord for Mr. Potter's expertise but well…his presence does unnerve the lot of us. His methods can be a little ruthless, and you never know who he'll come for next..." Rosmerta avoided Hermione's eyes as she mumbled the later part of the sentence and then said in a forcibly bright voice, "all in the name of Little Whinging, of course. We are so lucky to have him." At this, she stood up, seeming to have lost all nerve and walked towards the door. "That's that, I'll bide you good night now, Hermione."

"I understand. Thank you, Madame," Hermione stood and followed the older woman. "I shall be more careful."

"See that you do," Rosmerta held the door open, her voice shaking with melancholy and her eyes looked a little distant as she saw Hermione out, "I should hate to lose yet another girl to the flames."

When Hermione finally arrived at the cottage, she sighed in spite of herself at the familiar sound of Teddy's cries of distress.

"Oh you poor thing, I know you miss you mama," Fleur hushed the infant, balancing Teddy in her lap to entice him with a bottle of milk. "It's alright, little one, Mama Fleur is here."

Teddy suckled on the bottle, his short and crimson hair slowly regaining their natural brown color starting at the roots.

"There are you Hermione. What did Rosmerta want?" Ginny asked as she set a bowl of steaming potatoes on the table.

"Well, I think we've finally solved the mystery of Harry Potter," Hermione replied wryly, following, giving Ginny a hand with a stack of mismatched plates.

"I wasn't aware that handsome specimen was a mystery," Ginny smirked a little. "He's quite good looking, isn't he Hermione. Shame he's a Muggle though."

"Yes, quite good looking," Hermione nodded, keeping a straight face. "You know, as far as your regular Muggle witch hunter goes, I mean."

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" she asked. "Huh? I never could have guessed. Him? A witch hunter? But he seemed so nice! And young!"

"You must have noticed there was something off about him, how everyone treats him."

"Other than the fact that there are always red sparks coming off the top of his head?" Luna inquired curiously.

The other three girls all turned to look at Luna, who stared back with an unblinking seriousness.

"Um, no," Ginny broke through the short silence. "Hermione, Is that what Rosmerta had to say to you?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, first, she thought we were courting and wanted to give me dating advice on how not to date a witch hunter. But then when I made it clear that we were doing no such thing, she told me that he might be onto us as 'witches'."

"But we haven't been doing any magic! Promise Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, a little too quickly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion but decided to let that go for now. "I suppose, seeing that we are a group of females, new to town and living in the woods, it wasn't too much of a stretch during a slow week."

"I loath witch hunters," Fleur gripped. "Spreading all these nasty rumors about witches. As if anyone would allow herself to look so hideous if she had magic. Have you seen some of the images on those flyers? What an insult!"

Hermione smiled a little. Same old Fleur. "We'll just have be extra careful from now on," she determined, making sure to exchange eye contact with the others one by one. "Absolutely no more magic, I mean it," she looked at Ginny, who glanced at the potatoes on the table guiltily. "Even when you think no one is looking."

"Surely any one of us could send that pretender's head rolling so much that he forget who he is," Fleur snorted.

"No. No magic remember?" Hermione reminded sternly without leaving room for argument. "I want you all to take this seriously. He may be a Muggle but before we get a confirmation from the Order that Voldemort isn't tracing mine or any of our magic, witch hunters are just as much as a threat as any Death Eater."

"Yes, we are not really going to let him burn any of use alive if it comes to that, right?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"It'll never get to that," Hermione said, sitting down at the table. "Lets eat. It's late."

Fleur stood up carefully and carried a sleeping Teddy back to their room while the others sat down. Hermione was breaking into her piece of crusty bread when a knock sounded at the door.

All three witches stood up instantly, three pairs of eyes darting towards the door.

"You don't think?" Luna raised her wand, and Hermione was surprised by how much longing she felt as her fingers tingled, missing the feeling of her own within her grasp.

"We've never had visitors," Ginny whispered nervously as Fleur joined them in the kitchen, having heard the knock as well and holding Teddy tightly in her arms.

Hermione stood on her tiptoes to peer out of the closest window to the door while still staying far enough to remain hidden on the other side. Outside, the world was dark. "I can't see anyone from here," she whispered to the others.

More knocks, more loud and insistent this time.

Ginny raised her want high and approached the door.

"No, I-I'll do it," Hermione side-stepped her. If anyone was to get hurt, it should be her. She didn't want to drag any of her friends into this in the first place.

Ginny nodded but stayed close behind her, her wand poised at the ready. Luna joined then and Fleur stayed behind Hermione with Teddy.

Taking a breath, Hermione turned the handle and opened the door.

"Good evening," a familiarly smooth voice began before the door had even completely opened to reveal their visitor.

"Oh," was Hermione's initial reaction as she found Harry Potter standing on her doorsteps.

A couple of things happened in quick succession before Hermione could react.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the small crowd in the doorway. He looked from Hermione to Luna and Ginny, both pointing wooden sticks at him. He opened his mouth to speak.

In the same moment, Hermione stepped in front of Luna to hide the blond's quickly lowered wand.

Directly behind the space where Hermione had vacated, Fleur stood holding Teddy. The little boy stirred, opened his eyes, his hair shifting from the usual brown to a bright blue as he began to wail at the lack of attention he was receiving from Fleur.

"What-" Harry's mouth dropped open, his eyes transfixed on Teddy.

"Stupefy!" Ginny shouted and before Hermione had even turned around to see the quick flash of red spark, Harry Potter, Little Whinging's infamous witch hunter, collapsed unceremoniously onto her doorstep, a look of surprise still frozen on his face.


End file.
